Stone Cold Killers
by Scorpio71
Summary: slash, rape, violence Remember how Riley's telephone line is tapped by the government and the remnants of the Initiative? Yeah, well... Buffy and Riley forgot about that little fact and others pay the price...


TITLE: Stone Cold Killers

FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

PAIRING: Spike/Xander

RATING: Hard R – Adult (see warnings)

**WARNING: non-con sex (rape), extreme violence**

CHALLENGE: _Spike is raped by a gang of human males and brutally traumatized by the attack. The men may be from the old initiative and may hold Spike responsible for what happened to it. No-one cares what happened to Spike, not even Xander. Spike is traumatized with nightmares, and on-going physical and health problems. The pairing is to be xander/spike with xander being the dominant one - the chip is in place._

NOTES: I'm playing loose and free with the challenge guidelines so I'm missing a few things. Nightmares and "on-going" physical problems. ::grins:: Don't know if this means it doesn't count for the challenge, but...

SUMMARY: Remember how Riley's telephone line is tapped by the government and the remnants of the Initiative? Yeah, well... Buffy and Riley forgot about that little fact and others pay the price...

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**STONE COLD KILLERS**

_By Scorpio_

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..o0O0o..

CLI-CLICK

bbuuuuuzzzzzzzz

BEE - BEE - BOOP

BEE - BEE - BOOP

BEE - BOOP - BEE - BOOP

brrrrriiiiiiinnnnnnngg

brrrrriiiiiiinnnnnnngg

brrrrriiiiiiinnnnnnngg

brrrrriiiii-

DAWN SUMMERS: Hello?

RILEY FINN: Hey Dawn. It's Riley. Is Buffy there?

DAWN SUMMERS: Oh, hi Riley. Yes, she's here. Hold on and I'll get her. Okay?

RILEY FINN: Sure kiddo. I'll wait.

_//bang//clunk//_

DAWN SUMMERS: BUFFY!!! RILEY'S ON THE PHOO-ONNNE!!!

_//click//thunk//_

BUFFY SUMMERS: Riley?

RILEY FINN: Hey beautiful. I was just calling to see what you wanted to do this Halloween. Um... 'cause I just saw a flyer down at the Student Union about a costume party being thrown by the Delta Gamma House and I thought... You know, that we could, uh, sort of go. Could be fun.

BUFFY SUMMERS: Oh! Uh... **Costume** party? Halloween? Um... okay. This is going to sound **very** weird and all, but... the Scooby Gang doesn't **do** Halloween anymore. **Way** too many bad memories. Way way too many. Halloween is **so** not of the good.

RILEY FINN: _//snort-sigh//_ Let me guess. Vampires, right?

BUFFY SUMMERS: Actually... no. Halloween is pretty much a no-go on the Vampire front. It's like... um, **un**cool for them to hang out on that night for some bizarre reason. Spike could probably explain it to you.

RILEY FINN: Uh, **no** thank you. I'll just take **your** word for it. I know that you all think of him as just Spike, but **I** still think of him as Hostile 17, so... **no**. I won't go over to his crypt and chat about his social calendar.

BUFFY SUMMERS: _//laughs//_ I can't really blame you for that. **I** don't like spending time with him either, even if he **is** just Spike to me.

RILEY FINN: So... if it's not the vampires, what's so bad about Halloween?

BUFFY SUMMERS: In theory? Nothing. In practice? Everything. It's just that every time we've tried to celebrate Halloween, something **horrible** happens. One year a group of fraternity brothers summoned a Fear Demon by accident and ended up traumatizing half of campus. Oh, and my personal nightmare, was when we were still back in Highschool, this Warlock cast a spell that made you become the person or thing that was your costume. It was... the worst. I was dressed up like a noble woman from the 18th century and I lost my Slayer powers. Spike could also tell you about that night. He tried to attack me and I didn't even **remember** who I was or even what vampires were. If it wasn't for Xander, I don't know **what** would have happened.

RILEY FINN: **Xander**? Are we talking about the same guy here? I mean, I **like** him and all. He's fun to joke around with and he's always wiling to go up against the bad guys, but... he isn't someone I'd trust to... um, **save** me or anything.

BUFFY SUMMERS: No, no. He was great that night. His costume was a soldier and he had a gun and when the spell hit, he was real kick ass and all. Very shoot 'em up and take 'em out.

RILEY FINN: Wow. That's... that's just **wow**.

BUFFY SUMMERS: Yeah, I know. He says he can still sort of remember it. You know, what it was like to be a soldier. But it's fuzzy, like a dream. And the memories are only clear every now and then. I believe him too, because that's how it is with me and my inner noble woman. It's like, every now and then, I'll see something or hear something and it'll trigger a memory buried deep in my head about that time period. Weird, huh?

RILEY FINN: **Very** weird, but... this **is** Sunnydale, so... Okay. No Halloween party. What would you rather do that night then?

..o0O0o..

A pale skinned communications specialist wearing a crisp uniform turned an excited grin on his companion. The blinking lights on the console in front of him reflected off the lenses of his glasses, hiding the gleam in his green eyes.

"Lieutenant?"

"Yes Corporal? What is it?"

"Sir. You might want to come listen to this recording of phone line #FINN2230-S. We have audio confirmation that the being called 'Spike' is in fact Hostile 17, plus it appears that one of the Slayer's research assistants is harboring the memories or spirit of some form of Hostile they refer to as 'The Soldier'."

Lieutenant Graham Miller raised one eyebrow up in extreme interest and walked over to the communications equipment. Leaning down a bit so as to be closer to the speaker, he gestured for his officer to replay the recording.

"Let's hear what Riley and Buffy are up to now..."

..o0O0o..

Pain.

Throbbing blinding pain.

He moaned at the horrendous sensation of having a brain three times too big for his skull, but the noise only served to make his head throb harder and a wave of nausea swept over him, leaving him trembling. He lay there on the cold hard floor and just concentrated on breathing and not throwing up.

After an unknown amount of time, the throbbing and pounding inside of his skull diminished and thought once again became possible. He knew he was Xander Harris. He knew he was lying naked on the cold hard floor. He knew he was in trouble and that he had a possible skull fracture. He just didn't know **how** he got this way. The last thing he remembered was... walking home.

Yes. He had been walking home from Anya's. It had been getting on towards dark and he'd had the creepiest sensation of being **watched**. He had shrugged it off since it was still too light for any vampires to be out and about. Even the older and stronger vampires like Spike couldn't have survived in the amount of light that was still left in the sky. So... he'd ignored the feeling and brushed it off as Hellmouth induced paranoia.

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to do.

Well, time to find out just **how** bad bad really was.

Slowly, mindful of the headache he was still nursing, Xander peeled back one eye and winced. Bright shiny white bounced florescent light into his brain by way of his eye. Squinting, Xander tried to make out what the white was. After a moment, he realized that it was the floor he was laying on. Shifting slightly, he lifted his head.

White floor. Three white walls. White ceiling. One glass wall. It seemed... familiar. He couldn't quite place it though.

Shifting a little more, Xander was able to roll over onto his side so that he was facing the glass wall. Beyond the thick glass was a plain white hallway. On the other side of the hallway was another glass fronted bright white cell. Inside of the cell was... Spike.

A naked Spike.

A naked Spike who was cowering in the corner, whimpering and cringing in full gameface with blood tinged pink tears dripping down his face. Moving in slow motion, they both turned their heads slightly until they made full eye contact. Brown eyes held confusion and gold eyes held nothing but stark terror. Then recognition hit Xander like a stake in the heart.

OH FUCK!!!!! THEY WERE AT THE INITIATIVE!!!!!!

Leaping to his feet, Xander ran across his small cell and reached out to touch the glass, desperately hoping to find a lock release. As soon as his flesh came into contact with the smooth surface, a large jolt of electricity slammed into his hands and up his arms. Sizzling pain made him cry out even as he was tossed like a rag-doll across his cell to crash into the far wall.

That action seemed to pull Spike out of his mindless fear, but he didn't move an inch. He just spoke in a broken and shaky voice that scared Xander more than any cell or electrical field ever could. Anything that could reduce William the Bloody to gibbering panic was so far beyond bad as to need a whole new definition for the word.

"No, no. Don't... don't **touch** it. It'll bite you. Don't touch **any** thing here. Don't let them ta... take you to th.. the **grey** r... room. And don't dr... drink the blood. Its **drugged** and it'll fall from the ceiling and you'll be **so** hungry, but... but don't. We have t... to get **out** of here."

It was at that point that Spike began loosing it again. He wrapped his long pale arms around his knees and began to rock back and forth. His golden eyes stayed locked on Xander's, but he wasn't sure if the vampire was actually focused on him or his own tortured memories.

"Have to get **out**. Have to get **out**. Have to get **out**. Have to get **out**."

Xander felt panic grip him as he watched the blonde in the cell across from him continue to rock and repeat his whispered mantra over and over and over again. It was chilling in a way that nothing else in his life had ever been before. Even **Angelus** hadn't scared him as badly as Spike's mental breakdown was doing. But even **that** display of fear induced insanity hadn't prepared him to witness the raw unthinking animal terror that Spike leapt into when a couple of white lab-coat wearing scientists and a double handful of armed soldiers entered the hallway.

Spike jumped to his feet and pushed himself as far back into the corner as he could physically go, cringing and whining as his head snapped around wildly as if he were looking for an escape route to appear before his eyes. When the first Initiative Member came into his line of sight, the vampire let out an ungodly wail of overwhelming fright and turned to face the wall. He then began to frantically scramble at the smooth ceramic surface as if he was trying to scurry up towards the ceiling or perhaps to simply **claw** his way through the solid and impenetrable barrier.

But it wasn't the vampire they were coming for. With horror swirling in his mind and bile rising in his throat, Xander watched as the glass wall to **his** cell slid to the side. The soldiers were standing in a half circle around the opening to his cell and they were pointing lots of large caliber pistols at him. All but one. He was pointing an oddly shaped rifle.

The soldier holding the rifle fired. A sharp piercing pain in his chest made Xander flinch back against the far wall. He glanced down, expecting to see a bleeding bullet hole. Instead, he saw a red tipped dart imbedded in his skin.

A wave of wooziness washed over him and his vision began to blur. With a shaking hand, he reached up and plucked the tiny dart out of his skin and dropped it from quickly numbing fingers. Another wave of vertigo crashed into him and he heard voices but they sounded funny, as if he was underwater. Then it felt as if he were falling and falling and falling and he kept waiting to hit the ground but before he could, everything went black.

..o0O0o..

The muzziness in his head slowly drifted away and he became aware of two things. He was laying on his back on a cold stone surface and there were odd little noises coming from just beyond his head. Xander blinked his eyes open and found himself in a dimly lit room. The fact that his vision was still a bit blurry didn't help him figure out where he was and his muscles all felt stiff and his head still hurt. He groaned.

The soft noises behind him stopped suddenly at the sound and Xander tried to sit up. That didn't work and it took him a few groggy seconds to figure out that it was because he was strapped down. He was suddenly wide awake and panic was beginning to flair up inside of his chest when a drawn and haggard face leaned over him. He flinched away from the glaringly insane gleam in the haunted eyes that had sunken into what was once probably a handsome face.

With overwhelming horror, Xander realized that he **knew** this man. He looked very different from the self-assured and arrogant Warlock that he remembered, but after a moment of staring into his eyes, Xander was absolutely **positive** that this shell of a man was the long lost Ethan Rayne from Giles's past. In desperation, he tried to talk past his dry and swollen tongue.

"Gi... Giles."

Ethan's eyes opened up comically wide and his thin lipped mouth formed a perfect 'O'. The crazy Warlock clutched at his bare shoulder painfully and leaned down to hiss into his ear.

"Ripper? You know Ripper?"

Xander nodded as best he could with his head strapped to the stone table or slab or whatever it was he had been placed on.

"Giles... Sun... Sunny... dale. Sla... Slay... er."

Recognition flickered across Ethan's face to be swiftly followed by great joy, then deep sadness and then a crafty sly look that was frightening and creepy.

"You're that Harris boy that Ripper has fighting off the demons and such alongside his precious Slayer, yes? Well... you're a prisoner of the bloody American government now. They want me to cast a spell on you boy. Bring out the soldier in you like I did that Halloween. But we'll play a little joke on them, won't we boy. For Ripper. He'll **love** it, he will. Ripper always **did** like his demons. Great at summoning them too. Taught me all I know..."

Xander felt his eyes go wide in abject horror. He knew from assorted strained talks with Giles that Ethan Rayne was a Master level Warlock who practiced the Black Arts and worshiped the Gods of Chaos. He had been Giles's first student and long time lover. Together, as young men, they had routinely summoned demons and then slaughtered them for fun. Now, after years of incarceration, and who knows **how** much torture by the Initiative, Ethan was planning on using **him**, one of Giles's most recent students, to get his revenge.

"no, no... Ethan, **please** no..."

A long bony finger rested upon his lips, stilling them.

"Shhh... **trust** me..."

And then he was gone out of Xander's line of vision. He struggled against the leather straps that held him down, but to no avail. He was trapped on the altar to a God of Chaos and at the mercy of an insane Warlock. Xander felt his eyes tear up and he wondered just **what** it was Ethan planned to do to him. He could hear him moving around, setting things up, but that wouldn't last too long. Once more, he tried to find a way out of his bonds. Twisting his hands around until the strap pulled painfully tight against his left wrist, Xander could just brush the tip of his middle finger along the smooth cold surface of a metal buckle. Frantically, he began to try and work it loose.

Too late! He could hear Ethan's muttering voice pick up volume and the sheer raw **power** of his magic echoed hollowly with every syllable he uttered. Desperately Xander tried to push the leather through the metal buckle even as the three black candles surrounding his head flared up brightly, the flames pouring scorching heat across his skin.

He whimpered as Ethan walked around to the side of the stone surface he was strapped to. He saw that the sorcerer was holding a sharp curved blade in one hand and a glowing red gemstone in the other. His voice was now a torrent of shouted incompressible words that made Xander's skin crawl and his hair stand on end. Then, in a swift and agile move, Ethan's arm came down and he quickly carved a symbol onto Xander's bare chest.

The world dissolved in white hot agony.

A swirling vortex of thick black and red clouds with flickering white lightening opened up above him. A whirlwind of sound and rushing air spun crazily and Xander **screamed** in pain and terror and hopelessness as the powerful energy literally **sucked** the soul right out of his body.

Tearing, ripping, pulling.

He felt as if he'd been split open and his insides had been dragged out of him with red hot hooks.

He howled out to the heavens to grant him death. Still, he lived.

Images and memories and sound assaulted his mind beneath the agony.

His mother lying in a battered heap on the floor only to have his father turn to him and announce that **he** was next.

Staking a vampire Jesse and watching him turn to dust.

Tracking a delicious scent and finding the school mascot. Then eating it alive.

Sex with Anya.

Buffy and Willow dancing at the Bronze.

Ampata crumbling into dust.

Spike tied up in his chair in his basement mouthing off with clipped British tones.

Shooting demons with an automatic weapon while protecting a frightened woman in a scarlet gown.

And then these eyes appeared, these empty fathomless black eyes, floating in the middle of the swirling vortex of chaos and looking right at him. Staring **into** him. Studying and learning and... judging him acceptable. And that echoing voice that oozed evil and pain and hatred and utter madness just raked across his ear and he **screamed** in denial at what it said.

_//YOU ARE MINE. NOW AND FOREVER MY CHILD.//_

Lightening whipped around the eyes in a frenzy and then rained down out of the vortex to **slam** into his quivering jolting body.

**Pain**

Endless overwhelming mind shattering agony ripped through him and every nerve ending caught on fire and he SCREAMED. Then, mercifully, he passed out.

..o0O0o..

X woke up to find that he was still strapped to the stone table upon which he'd been reborn. With a quick flex-jerk of his back and shoulder muscles, he tore the leather bindings loose from their seams. Glancing around with a cold curiosity, he saw the body of the wizard who had given up his own life to allow his 'becoming' to come to pass. He glanced away disinterestedly.

Reaching down, he yanked at the straps that bound his legs. They snapped under his demonic strength.

Sliding off of the table, X paused a quick moment to grab up the fallen dagger. Clenching it tightly in his hand, he strode over to the door. He pushed against it, but it didn't budge. Resting his hand upon its surface, he could **feel** the flow and pulse of electric currents running to and from the locking mechanism. He grinned a frighteningly evil grin.

Reaching inside his mind for the instinctive knowledge and ability to manipulate electricity, X reversed the current, disengaging the lock. With a solid sounding _clunk_, the door unlocked and then swung open. He stepped through it without hesitation.

Stalking through the hallways, X could sense evil and darkness all around him. It shivered and pulsed through the very air, but he ignored it. It was mortal evil, generated by the human scientists and soldiers that ran this facility. X was hunting another source of evil. One that was infinitely deeper and more finely developed. One that was, like his own evil, demonic.

Spike.

Turning a corner, X encountered a small group of armed military type humans. Two of them yanked out strange looking weapons and fired them at him. After a mortal heartbeat, X recognized them as Tazors. He laughed in wicked glee. The mortals fired and bright jolts of pure energy flowed into him. Feeding him. Empowering him.

Raising up one hand, palm out, he released the collected energy in one blinding flash of power. The mortal soldiers went flying down the hallway to land in smoking heaps of dead burnt flesh. X laughed even harder as he stomped over them to continue on his way.

Turning another corner, he came upon a highly polished metal door. He paused at it. Its high sheen surface acted almost like a mirror. Looking into its false depths, he saw an apparently naked human male with dark curly hair and full soft lips. Wide shoulders and thick arms, flat stomach and long legs. And upon his chest was a symbol carved by the dead wizard. It glowed a deep ruby red and his eyes... His eyes were solid black. No white, no iris and no pupils, just... black.

He grinned at his reflection and it was the very face of uncaring evil.

Turning from the door, X continued down the hall. He was getting closer now. Closer. He could **feel** the very air tingle and shimmer with the sensation of demonic energy. At the end of the corridor, he reached an elevator. Pushing a button, the doors slid open. Stepping inside, they closed and his pushed the button for the floor below him.

Nothing happened.

Enraged that the machine was not moving, X lashed out at the control panel, slamming his fist into it so that his fingers and hand was embedded behind the cracked and broken face plate to the wiring and circuitry behind. This was trickier than the door. The programming that controlled the elevator was much more complex than that which controlled the door's lock. It took several trials and errors until X hit upon the correct sequence of electrical manipulation to make it work properly. Finally, he was moving down. Down towards his mate.

As soon as the doors opened, X's heightened sense of smell brought the acrid scent of raw primal fear and freshly spilt blood to his nose. He smiled. A truly happy smile of delight.

Following the intoxicating scent, X found himself standing outside of a thick steel door. The scent was coming from just beyond, but so was the sensation of demonic power. He figured that his mate was behind the door and still terrified of the humans who had rendered him defenseless. With a smirk, X pushed open the door and strode in. Only to stop in overwhelming **anger** and **hatred**.

His mate was being held down across a metal table by a bunch of soldiers while one of them **raped** him from behind.

The air reeked of human sweat and semen and saliva. Mixed in with that was the smell of Spike's blood and his fear. Harsh guttural male voices called out taunts and insults to the vampire as his flesh was violently assaulted again and again.

How **dare** they! Spike was **his**! He **owned** the blonde and **no one** was allowed to touch him without his permission!

Bloodrage descended upon him in a fiery wash and he **howled** out his fury.

..o0O0o..

X's next coherent thought was 'what happened?' as he looked around the gore splattered room. Bits and pieces of mortal flesh lay about in quivering chunks and puddles of sticky red blood dripped everywhere. Static electricity crackled and sparked around his hands and up his arms and the last echoes of his angry voice yelling 'Spike is **mine**!' still rang from the ceiling.

Turning, he saw the blonde vampire cowering naked in the corner holding up one hand in a 'don't come any closer' gesture while pleading in a panicky voice.

"Yes Xander. I'm yours, all yours, for as long as you want, just... just don't rip me into bloody pieces and I'll be yours, just..."

Spike broke off with a shriek when X dropped the mangled and torn off leg that he had been holding and then stalked towards him. The vampire cringed back and tried to make himself as small as possible. X didn't care, he reached out with one hand and grabbed the blonde by the throat and **yanked** him up to eye level.

"MINE!"

Spike's eyes went a big as saucers with fear and his limbs trembled.

"Yes Xander. I'm all yours, just... don't hurt me."

X growled.

"Xander is **dead**. There's only me now. **X**!"

Spike nodded his head frantically and whimpered as X leaned forward and pressed his nose alongside the vampire's neck. He inhaled deeply and growled with anger.

"You **stink** of them. Their smell is all over you. I **don't** like you smelling like those... **humans**."

The last was sneered. Spike just trembled harder. Glancing around, X didn't see anything that could help him fix this problem, so he yanked the blonde out into the hallway and down several corridors. They came upon two scientists and one soldier, but X killed them all while Spike tried to hide behind him. Finally, they came across a locker room.

Pushing Spike inside, X dragged him towards the shower area. Turning on the water as hot as it would go, he shoved the bruised and bloodied vampire under the steaming cascade. A quick pilferage through some lockers produced a bar of soap and X walked under the burning spray as well. Grabbing the blonde, he went to work scrubbing at every inch of his skin. He ignored the howls and cries of pain as he brutally cleaned scraps, cuts, torn flesh and purpled bruises. He had one goal in mind, wash every molecule of scent out of the blonde's pores that wasn't his own. Finally, after he was satisfied that none of the human's scent remained, X turned off the water and threw the vampire to the wet tile floor.

"You belong to **me** and you will wear no one's scent but **mine**! Do you understand?"

Spike nodded his head, the fear still evident in his eyes, yet it was a different kind of fear. This was the fear of a cruel and harsh master, but one that he **knew** would protect him from all others. X was the only one who would ever hurt him from now on. No one else was allowed. And that was something that Spike was very familiar with. It was how he had spent the first fifty years of his unlife. The only difference now was, Angelus wasn't his master this time, X was.

With a cruel smile, X grabbed Spike's legs and held them open wide, then he **slammed** his rock hard cock into Spike's sore and abused hole with one violent thrust. This wasn't making love. This wasn't even sex. It was pure dominance of the most primal and brutal kind. Spike was being claimed; as mate, as servant, as property.

The vampire's face twisted into an expression of hopeless adoration and tortured pain even as he howled out his completion and agonized surrender. X's eyes glittered with power and exultant pleasure as he felt Spike's torn and battered walls quiver and shake around him. Three more deep hard thrusts and his orgasm slammed into him. He spilled his seed deep inside his mate. One pulse, two, three and then he pulled out and shot another two loads on Spike's groin and chest. Marking him with his scent.

Grinning, he pulled the tired and battered blonde up into his arms and held him in a surprisingly gentle embrace. His whispered voice was a sibilant hiss of amused evil.

"I have a surprise for you my luscious one."

Spike wearily raised his head and blinked his startled and fearful blue eyes up at him. X chuckled deep in his throat. Almost tenderly, he reached up and ran his fingers through the wet blonde hair at the back of Spike's skull and then he reached out with his power of electrical manipulation and gave a sharp tiny twist. Spike shivered and twitched in his arms.

"Wha...?"

"The chip... its busted now. You don't have to worry about it giving you any more mean headaches. I've killed it for you."

Blue eyes flickered with gold as hope bled into them for the first time since they had woken up in the Initiative. A small smile curved the corners of Spike's mouth slightly and X chuckled again.

"Come, my pale beauty. Let's find you some of those stupid humans running around here so you can feed. As soon as you're feeling better, we'll burn this whole stinking place to the ground. Sound like fun?"

X watched as a torrent of emotions flooded across Spike's face one after the other. Finally, his features settled into his gameface with ridged brow, gold glittery eyes and sharp pointed fangs.

"Yes X. That's sounds bloody lovely."

..o0O0o..

Lieutenant Graham Miller lay in a small puddle of blood next to the severed head of Corporal Vincent Campbell as he watched the smoke and flames pour out of the building that had housed Compound #28D of the Initiative Project. He seriously doubted that more than a handful or two of the military personnel or scientists who had worked here had survived. Death and destruction was **everywhere** one looked.

Turning his head, Graham could just barely make out the faint outline of the jeep that the two demons had stolen as it drove off into the Nevada desert. Hostiles 17 & 236. Spike and Xander.

No...**X**.

Graham **remembered** the boy who had been named Xander. He had known him personally, in fact. And **that** was **not** Xander. That beast, that killing machine, was "X". And with the help of Ethan Rayne, the Initiative had **made** X into what he was. It was all their fault. **They** had unleashed that demon on an unsuspecting world.

Graham felt his soul shiver.

"Oh God! What have we **done**?"

Unfortunately, there was no one left to answer him...

_fini_


End file.
